A Touch of Confidence
by Deepy
Summary: What exactly happened between Sam and Rosie in the Green Dragon during that scene in Return of the King? An exercise in confidence and flirtation. SamRosie


A/N: In this piece, I wanted to incorporate a scene from the movie, but set with book events.  Meaning that, in this scene in the movie with the four hobbits at the Green Dragon, the Scouring actually happened.  So, I hope you like this little light-hearted story of mine.  I will be posting a revised version when my beta decides to give the corrected version back to be me.

A Touch of Confidence

It seemed that as much as the Shire seemed to have changed, the atmosphere within the Green Dragon was always the same.  With the recent changes and the reclaiming of the Shire, the hobbits have been hard at work rebuilding their dear home.  Though much has changed, some things were regained, but the innocence that has always been there was gone now.  Some good had come from the change (and they always referred to it as 'change,' and not by anything else).  The long time feud between Frodo and the Sackville-Bagginses was over, and the hobbits of the Shire were now more aware of what happened outside the comfort of their homes.  And another good thing that has happened will be taking place at the Green Dragon tonight.

But as much as some things would change, others would always stay the same.  The same old people were there in the pub that night, with the same chattering. And you would think, if you were a traveler and did not know any better, that absolutely nothing had was different.  That was true, and to an extent.  The Green Dragon had always been the place to sit down, relax, have a good ale, and talk over the day's events.  And it will probably serve that very purpose until the end of time itself (or the end of hobbits).  And that was precisely what Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were doing tonight.  For the past two weeks, they had been hard at work tending to their home (especially to Bag End, which was in different states of shambles), hardly being able to sit down and speak with one another like old times.  Now, finally, there was that time. 

Frodo walked over with four mugs of ale in his hand, setting it down on the table.  The hobbits were silent, looking at each other, each one happy to just be sitting in that old familiar spot again.  One could only have so much adventure, and they all seemed to be quite done with it.  There was something to be said for the familiar, and that was comfort.  Comfort in knowing that there will always be a place that will cushion your heart, and make you forget about the traumatizing events that have passed.  And just being there tonight, in that familiar place, lightened that load in their hearts just a bit.  So, the desire to talk left them, and was replaced with the desire to just soak in the atmosphere once more.  

The four of them each took a cup, made a toast, and raised it to their lips.  It was Pippin who finally spoke up, "This is nice."

"Yes it is," agreed Merry, "I've tried brews from seemingly every place, but nothing can beat out the Green Dragon."

They all nodded in agreement.  Sam couldn't stop from looking at the hand Frodo used to hold his cup.  It was his right hand, his good hand.  Not the other one that…was injured.  He always glanced at it when he was sure Frodo wasn't looking, and it made his heart hurt every time.  He still blamed himself a little, he had to admit, though Frodo always made it a point to say that it was not his fault.  Shaking his head, he looked up and met Frodo's eyes.  And the sight warmed his heart to no ends. 

The hobbit was smiling, just like old times.  He raised his cup to Sam and drank from it.  He had hardly smiled since their return, and Sam could swear at any moment, his three companions would just get up upon their feet and sing, just like old times.  And he would watching them, smoking a pipe, and every once and a while, sneaking a glance at Rosie Cotton.

Rosie!  At this thought, he turned his head towards the bar, where, sure as a bell, Miss Rosie Cotton was there, wiping the cups and saying goodnight to the guests. "Good night lads," he could hear her say.  She always had the most beautiful voice, always bright and cheerful, like the sun's rays.  And he had heard many a beautiful voices, though none of them could compare to that of Rosie.  

Their eyes met and she smiled at him, like always, before turning back to her tasks.  They had not talked since he had gotten back, but he had always seen her in the afternoons, when she would walk around, bringing the working hobbits their lunch.  There was too much to do nowadays for there to be six meals.  So Rosie and Mrs. Cotton always made sure that the lunch was a good substitute for second breakfast and elevenses.

The thought of her made him remember what he had said to Frodo, in what had seemed to be their last hours.  "Rosie Cotton dancing.  She had ribbons in her hair."  That dance had seemed like heaven to him, and the sound of her laughter had echoed through his head at that very moment.  He had been prepared to carry the memory of that sound and of her to the end.  "If I was to marry someone, it would have been her."  

Frodo followed Sam's gaze, then looked at him, smiling knowingly.  He remembered.  Sam could feel himself blushing.  The things one said when death was knocking on the door.  But looking at Frodo, then at Rosie, Sam felt a surge of something he had not felt before.  Could it be, confidence?  He was not sure, but whatever it was, that same force made him take another long drink from his cup, and to get up from the table.  His three companions both looked at him, and saw the direction he was going to.  And he heard their laughter. 

But he didn't care, let them laugh, right now, he had bigger things to take care of.  He made his way to the bar and stood in front of it, facing Rosie Cotton.  His heart was pounding to his ears, and he suddenly lost some of that confidence.  But he remained stout, and determined.  Her eyes were on him now (she always had the nicest eyes, always warm and friendly).  

"Do you need anything else?" she asked him.

"No," he heard himself saying, "I was just deciding to come up and have a nice talk, if you don't mind."

She smiled, "No, not at all.  It's about time you come and talked to me Samwise Gamgee.  After being gone for thirteen months to goodness knows where, then returning home like this, all dressed kingly and everything, I was beginning to think you are ignoring me."

That was true, to an extent.  His heart was pounding incredibly quickly now.  "I would never, but you know there are a lot of repairs to be made, especially to Bag End."

"Yes, I know that, but it wouldn't hurt to drop a word to me once in a while.  And here I thought you liked me, Samwise Gamgee-"

He fought to keep his mouth from flying open.  How in the world did she find that out?  He never made it that obvious, did he?  "Of course I do Rosie, in fact, I fancy you a lot," he heard himself confessing.  

At the same time, she was saying, "and that we were friends…"  Now it was her turn to be shocked, and in turn, for Sam to become incredibly mortified (more-so than already).  "Are you saying you…?"

Sam could feel himself turning a bright crimson, but he remained standing there.  Well, he got this far, might as well run along with it.  "Yes, I do, and I know it's too much to be asking that you feel the same way, but that is correct, I have fancied you for some time now.  And you have remained in my thoughts throughout these past 13 months, and even more-so lately."  He could feel his heart lightening at this declaration.  That may have been the hardest thing he had done yet (the journey through Mordor withstanding).    

She smiled again, and he did not know how to read that.  Did she feel the same way?  She leaned in towards him, and he suddenly wished the bar wasn't in the way.  "Well Samwise, it seemed that those 13 months have done you some good, talking to a girl like that.  Will you be whisking me off onto your horse and riding off into the sunset?"

Sam gulped, "Only if you permit it."  Oh dear, was he actually flirting?  Since when did that happen?

"Hmm, maybe when you finish working," she replied.  "In the meantime, how about you join me and my family for dinner tomorrow night?"  

He could feel a surge of happiness flow through him.  "I'd be delighted to," he replied.  

"Great, now, I think it's time for you to go back, your table is getting restless."  Sure enough, he followed her glance to where Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were looking at them, with wide grins on their faces.  

"I suppose I should," he said, he didn't actually wanted to leave.  "Wait, what time should I arrive tomorrow night?"  

"6 o'clock, and don't be late.  I hope you get finished with the day's work by then."

"In that case, I'll work quicker tomorrow."  

"That's good to hear."  She planted a light kiss upon his cheek, "It's wonderful to see you again Samwise Gamgee, and don't you go leaving me again."  

"I never will, Rosie, you should know that," he said, clearly understanding the meaning behind her words.  "Until tomorrow, Miss Cotton."  He walked back to his table, with flushed cheeks, feeling his heart lifted to greater heights.  He was quite aware of the ridiculous smile across his face, though he did not care.  When he sat back down again, he was greeted by laughter and pats on the back.  He let out a breath he was not aware having held.

"Well Sam, I think our adventure has done you some good," said Frodo, mirth in his eyes.

"You can say that, Mr. Frodo," he replied, drinking the last of his ale.  Now, he really did merit the title of Samwise the Brave.  

*

A/N: I had to fight the urge to just have them snog.  But then, Sam is not one for taking things fast, no matter how confident he may get.  So I just had to settle for some nice dialogue.  Ah well, at least they kissed in the movie!          


End file.
